


Anything for Stevie

by bluemadridista



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Feels, Fluff, Liverpool All-Stars Charity Match, Liverpool F.C., M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3752305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemadridista/pseuds/bluemadridista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The charity match brought back together everyone's OTP, Gerlonso, but in this fic, it brings together more as well. Fluffy, and mildly smutty version of what happened during, and after the match.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything for Stevie

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the fic itself. I do not own the people or the clubs.

Xabi’s bedroom in Munich was shrouded in pitch black darkness. The shades were drawn, but even so, in the daytime shards of light cast across the bed where he lay startled awake by the ringing of his phone. He blinked several times, forcing his eyes to at least attempt to adjust to the darkness that surrounded him. His phone lay on the table beside his bed face down. A tiny outline of white shone around it - the only light in the room. He reached for the ringing phone, and pulled it off the table. The light assaulted his eyes, and he clinched them shut again. He swiped the screen blindly with his thumb to answer the call.

The ringing ceased, and he put the phone to his ear, still completely unaware of who was calling so late. “Hola? Què?” His voice was hoarse; his throat dry. He cleared his throat.

Silence was the only response for a while until, finally, a voice spoke – a voice that sent a flutter through his stomach, and awakened his senses immediately. “Xabs?”

Xabi sat up in bed, his back against the headboard. Never before had he been so happy to be awakened at - it suddenly occurred to him that he had no idea of the time. He glanced to the right at the alarm clock on his bedside time. _12:35_. He knew that meant that it was only 11:35 in Liverpool. Still, why was Steven calling so late?

“Xabs?” Only when Steven spoke again did it occur to Xabi that he hadn’t spoken in all the time he had been ascertaining the time, and calculating the difference. “Are you there?”

Steven’s voice sounded so small. Xabi felt like his heart was being squeezed. “Steven?” he finally replied. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong?” The statement sounded more like a question.

“It’s 12:30, Steven…”

Steven was silent for a short while, calculating the time difference, and letting the reality of the distance between them come crashing down on him again. He sighed. “I forgot the time difference.” He never actually said the word, “sorry,” but the apology was evident in his voice.

Xabi smiled. There was no reason to apologize. There was no one that he would rather hear from in the middle of the night. He stretched his legs out under the covers in front of him, and then pulled them back up again, curling his toes on the sheets. His smile grew wider. “It’s good to hear from you,” he said, but the “It’s okay, no problem” was implied.

“I’m planning an event - a game - a match,” Steven said after another short pause. Xabi heard a soft slurping noise, and knew immediately that Steven was chewing on the side of his index finger. It was a bad anxious habit.

“At 11:30 at night?”

Steven could hear the smirk in his voice. He lowered his hand from his mouth, rested his head back on his headboard, and closed his eyes to imagine it. He was sure that no matter how great the distance or time between them, he would always be able to clearly picture Xabi’s face - especially the variety of smiles he had flashed at Steven on various occasions. “No, not at 11:30,” he finally responded. “I’ve been planning it for a while now. It’s just finally coming together. And I… I want you to be a part of it.”

“Of course,” Xabi blurted without even having a clue to what he was agreeing. It didn’t matter. If Steven asked, he would do it. He would do anything for Steven.

*Three Days Later*

Fernando was on the phone with Juan when Steven called him. “Juan, I have to go.”

“But… Nando. I really need to talk to you about something.”

“Steven’s calling in. I’ll call you right back.”

“Let him go to voicemail.”

“I can’t. Steven doesn’t just call for no reason, and it’s been ages.”

“Yeah, yeah. No one can compete with Steven, I know. Talk later.”

“Juan,” Fernando says gently.

“What?” The pout was audible in his voice.

“I love you.”

“Prove it.”

“Juan.”

“I love you too. You better call me back after your call with your precious Steven.”

“He’s not my precious. You are.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t even start quoting _Lord of the Rings_.”

Fernando laughed. “I’ll call you right back!” He clicked over quickly, just catching the call before Steven was sent to voicemail. “Steven!! Hey!”

“Nando! I wasn’t sure I’d get you. Did I interrupt anything?”

“Not really. I’m just having a quiet evening at home after training this morning and afternoon.”

“How are you doing over there?”

“Really good. How are you? How’s Liverpool?”

“I’m good. It’s great, as always. It’s me home, so I love it.”

“Of course. So, what are you calling about?”

“Can’t I just call to ask me old mate how he’s doing?”

“Of course! But you never do, so what’s up?”

“Yer right. I always ulterior motives, hmm? Well, I’m putting together a match for charity, and…”

“Yes,” Fernando interjected. “I’ll do it.”

Steven laughed. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

“Didn’t have to.”

“What if I were asking you to be the ball boy?”

“Then I’d be a ball boy.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would.”

And it was true. Fernando would do absolutely anything for Steven.

*29th March 2015*

“Nando!” Steven grabbed Fernando as soon as he walked onto the pitch. Fernando looked a little misty, and Steven’s heart felt like it might explode. He pulled the younger man into a hug. “Do you hear them?” he asked, referring to the supporters singing Fernando’s song.

Fernando nodded and hugged Steven tighter. He was afraid that if he spoke, he would start to cry. Emotions were bubbling inside of him, just waiting to spill out. He had never felt more proud, and… free. Free was the only thing that could really describe it. He was finally free of all the fear and guilt he had felt after leaving Liverpool. He feared that his beloved Liverpool fans would never forgive him, that they hated him. He never thought he’d ever get a reception like this again. He never even thought he’d be invited back to Anfield. The day was already so surreal. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d keep his head on straight enough to play.

“Are you okay, lad?”

“I’m okay,” he finally managed. “There’s Xabi over there. You should go to him before kick-off.” Fernando pointed to the left where Xabi was waving at the crowds in the stands.

Steven shook his head. “No, no, I can’t.”

“What? Why? You two didn’t break up, did you?” Fernando felt a whole new set of tears welling inside him. That news would be nearly as bad as his own parents telling him that they were divorcing.

“Huh? Shh… no. I just…” Steven glanced around, and then glanced down at the pitch and his boots. “I don’t think I could contain meself around him. It’s been so long and I…” Steven cut off, and his cheeks blushed nearly as red as his beloved Liverpool kits.

“I understand. I don’t know if Xabi will though. He might just think you’re ignoring him.”

“He’s smarter than that.”

~~~

“He’s not ignoring you, Xabi,” Pepe assured him.

“He hasn’t said one word to me since we arrived here. We’ve precious seconds before kick-off, and he’s cuddling with Fernando.”

“Fernando needs it. He was so anxious about today. You should have seen him. Actually, you should have been there for him. Go. Go now. Go say something to him. You can see the emotion all over his face. Go hug him or something.”

“He’s already got Steven.”

“What are you, twelve? Go.” Pepe gave him a shove, and ran toward his goal to prepare for kick-off.

Xabi groaned, and jogged toward Fernando. At least this would get him closer to Steven. He would be forced to acknowledge him then!

As soon as Steven saw Xabi coming, he gave Fernando a pat, and jogged off. “Catch you later, lad!”

“Bye, Steven!” Fernando waved, and turned toward Xabi who was now approaching on his left.

“Where was he going in such a hurry?” He crossed his arms over his chest, and watched his lover jog off.

“I don’t know. For a jog around the pitch, it looks like.”

“Hmm… So, uh, what were you two talking about?”

“How amazing this day is, and you.”

Xabi had been staring at the grass. His head jerked up suddenly. “What? Me?”

“Of course. I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with Steven where he didn’t mention you at least once.”

Even Xabi’s majestic ginger beard couldn’t hide the blush in his cheeks. “What did he say?”

“What are you, twelve?” Fernando shook his head. “Time for kick-off!” Fernando started to jog away. “Come on, Xabi! We’re finally home!”

Xabi couldn’t help grinning as he followed him out onto the pitch, though he still wondered what Steven had said about him. When he took his position on the pitch, he glanced over at Steven who stood opposite him. Steven was shouting orders, or maybe just well wishes, to the defenders, but he finally looked over when he felt Xabi’s eyes on him. Xabi grinned. Steven returned the grin, and tapped his chest over his heart. Xabi felt his heart explode.

Only thirty minutes had passed before Xabi was being subbed off. That was a condition of him being allowed to participate. The powers-that-be in Germany put a thirty minute limit on his playing time. To say he was angry about it was an understatement, but he tried to keep a happy face on as he trotted toward the sidelines. He clapped for the fans, smiling happily.

Moreno was coming on as he went off, and he embraced him briefly. He was quite impressed by the young player, and thought for a fleeting moment when they were embracing that he looked quite a lot like Steven, and possibly himself as well. He chuckled and trotted to the bench to watch the rest of the match. His eyes locked onto the Steven immediately, and stayed there throughout almost the entire match. He was so happy for him, so impressed by him, and just practically in awe of the man. Then again, that’s pretty much how he’d always been. That’s how everyone seemed to be when it came to Steven.

After the match ended, a lot of the old squad (Steven, Xabi, Nando, Arbeloa, and Pepe Reina, to name a few)  went out onto the pitch to have their photo taken. Xabi squeezed in next to Steven, and wrapped his arm around him. In return, he was flashed a quick smile before Steven turned back to the camera. Xabi kept up the smile, but it faltered slightly. What was Steven’s problem?

When they began to disband, so to speak, Xabi clung to Steven, holding him back. Steven turned and hugged him quickly. They began to walk toward the tunnel, and he kept his arm around Xabi’s shoulders. “What’s going on?” Xabi asked without moving his lips out of the wide grin formation.

Before Steven could say a word, Kuyt grabbed him. “Hey,” he said, turning from Xabi.

Xabi sighed, and slowly let his arm fall away from Steven. Steven pulled away from him, and embraced Kuyt. Xabi let the smile fall completely, and continued down the tunnel. Àlvaro was there waiting for him. He hugged him.

“Xabier… how I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you as well, Àlvaro.”

“Shame you played for such a short time.”

Xabi pulled out of the hug, nodding. “Yeah. It wasn’t up to me though.”

“I know that.”

“Do you think Steven knows that?”

“What? Yeah, I’m sure he does. Why?”

“He’s been avoiding me.”

“I’m sure he isn’t doing it intentionally. He’s the man of the night, you know? He’s got lots of people to see, and hands to shake. He’s Captain Fantastic, and everyone wants a piece of him.”

Xabi nodded. “You’re right.”

~~~

“Jordy, hey!” Steven was bombarded by Jordan Henderson as soon as he finally made it down into the tunnel. He tried to look for Xabi, but Jordan hugged him, blocking him from seeing anything, save his red t-shirt-covered chest.

“Hey, Captain.”

“How’d you like the match?”

“It was excellent! I was so proud.”

Steven blushed, and waved him off as if to say, “Aw, shucks.” “Well, I mean…”

“Jamie commanded his side so well!”

Steven’s mouth hung open, and his eyes narrowed. “Jamie?”

“Yeah!” Jordan looked like a heart-eyes emoji. He grinned widely. “I was so proud of him. I wish he had scored, but that never really was his thing.” He chuckled. “Still, I’m…”

“Proud, yeah, I heard you. Jordy, you wouldn’t have been rooting against your captain, now would you?”

“Well…” Jordan fidgeted like a child being scolded.

“I’m yer captain, Jordan.”

“But he’s my boyfriend,” Jordan whispered.

“That, I am,” Jamie said. He’d been approaching the whole time unbeknownst to the two talking. He was just close enough to hear Jordan, and he slung his arm over his shoulder. “Why don’t you go find yours by the way, Gerrard, and leave mine alone?”

“Yeah, yeah. Henderson, expect me to be tough on you next time we meet in training!” he threatened as he started off, looking around for Xabi.

“See what you get me into,” he heard Jordan saying to Jamie.

Steven smiled. He had been instrumental in setting them up. It had started as a sort of experiment. The two were something of an odd couple, and Steven had wanted to see if they could hit it off. It had taken exactly two dates for them to hit it off, and decide to start a relationship. That was six months ago, and they showed no signs of stopping. Steven was happy for them, but he was even happier that he had something to rub in Jamie’s face. Jamie had been teasing him since they started choosing squads for the charity match. “You can’t even run,” he kept saying until finally Steven countered with, “You wouldn’t have yer boyfriend if it weren’t for me, so watch what you say, or I’ll convince young Jordan that he can do better - which he can by the way!” That shut him up.

Xabi was still chatting with Àlvaro when he caught sight of Steven coming toward him. He decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. “I’m heading for the shower,” he told Àlvaro, and walked off quickly before Steven could reach him.

Steven’s jaw dropped. He knew that Xabi had clearly seen him. He chased after him, grabbing him by the arm. “Hey! Xabs!”

“Steven.”

“Hey… I lost you out there on the pitch.”

“You seemed occupied with Dirk.”

“I wish you would have waited for me.”

“And I wish you would have spoken to me when I first arrived, but you’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“‘Course I have.”

Xabi’s eyes narrowed. “‘Course you have’... What does that mean?”

Steven lowered his voice, and replied, “I was afraid I’d snog you right out there in front of God and everybody. I was sure I couldn’t control meself.”

Xabi snorted. “Are you serious?”

“As a winning goal scored in injury time, mate.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Steven.”

“I haven’t seen you in months. I miss you. I can’t be held responsible for me actions.”

“I’d like to see those actions later, hmm?”

Steven blushed and cleared his throat. “Later, yes.”

***

After the match, Fernando enjoyed some time with his old Chelsea teammates. He enjoyed chatting with Didier and John. It felt like the good days at Chelsea. They were few and far between. He had suffered so much there, but it was never anything to do with his teammates. They were always supportive of him, especially his former captain. John had been almost as good to him as Steven had been. When Didier departed to make his way to the Hilton for the after party, Fernando hung back with John.

“How is Frank?” he asked in a low voice.

John sighed and stared at the floor of the Liverpool dressing room where they stood. “He’s… well, _he’s_ good.”

The way John emphasized the word, “he’s,” made Fernando curious. “He’s good, but… you’re not?”

John shrugged his shoulders. He scuffed his expensive Italian shoe across the floor. “How can I be when he’s not with me anymore? It was bad enough when he was going to leave Chelsea and go off to the States for a new chapter. Now, he’s just set up camp with City. City, of all bloody clubs! He could have stayed with us. He should have.”

Fernando nodded. He shared John’s opinion in that regard. Frank was a Chelsea legend. He belonged there. And John and Frank were a secret power couple. They belonged together. “Better having him here than across the Atlantic though, right?”

“I suppose.” John allowed himself a small smile. “I’m going to see him after the banquet. I asked him to come tonight, but I think he was bitter having not been invited to play, so he declined.”

“Too many Chelsea players amongst so many Liverpool players might have caused some curse to fall upon Anfield or something,” Fernando said with a laugh.

John chuckled along with him. “Still, I wish he’d been here.”

“I wish the same about Juan, but he refused to come as well. He’s busy, or something.” He rolled his eyes. He and Juan hadn’t been communicating regularly, as of late. Since he had forgotten to call him back directly after his call with Steven, Juan had been a little frosty.

“You should go see him.”

“Nah.” Fernando shook his head. “He probably wouldn’t want to see me, and I would have to rent a car or take the train, or… nah.”

“You could ride with me. You know he and Frank are neighbors, right? I could drop you off.”

Fernando stared at John’s shoe scraping the floor, giving the idea some thought. “Could I just think about it, and let you know later?”

“Of course. I’m leaving straight after the dinner though, so find me then.”

~~~

As soon as Steven walked into the banquet hall, he searched the mass of tables to find Xabi. He had scanned the entire room, and hadn’t spotted him. It was packed, so he did another scan. Surely, he wouldn’t be able to miss him. Surely, he could pick him out of a crowd. Had Xabi decided not to stay for the ceremony? His shoulders slumped, and he took one last look over the crowds of friends and teammates.

“Looking for me?”

Steven jumped, and turned back when Xabi spoke close to his right ear. “Bloody hell,” he gasped, laughing. “You startled me.”

Xabi chuckled. “Sorry. Were you though?”

“Were I, what?”

“Looking for me.”

“Of course, I was. I thought you left.”

“How could I?” Xabi cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy.

Steven nodded. “Thank you.”

He shook his head to say, ‘no problem.’ “Should we get some seats at the back of the room?” Steven nodded, and they walked off toward a dark back corner. Xabi was glad to be away from the lights and the cameras, but he felt slightly like the kid that sits at the back of the classroom to avoid being called on by the teacher.

Steven settled into the seat beside him, and held his hand under the table. “Today is so surreal,” he said, rubbing his thumb over Xabi’s hand.

“I know. I never thought I’d be back playing with you at Anfield.”

“I wish you’d never gone.” The statement had always been there, floating between them, but Steven had never verbalized it. He had to support Xabi in his endeavours, even if they took him away from him.

“I know,” Xabi said though he was shocked to finally hear Steven say it. “I’m sorry.” He had said that to Steven a thousand times, but this time it sounded more like, “I regret leaving.”

Steven stared at him. “Are you unhappy in Germany?”

He nodded, and looked away. “I thought it would be an exciting new adventure. It’s terrible. I wish I’d stayed in Madrid. I talked to Sergio the other day. He said it’s karma.”

“Ramos?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t he kind of an idiot?”

Xabi laughed. “Yes.”

“Then, I’d say don’t listen to him.”

“He may be right though. I don’t really believe in karma, but perhaps I am getting what I deserve for leaving Liverpool all those years ago, for leaving you.”

“Rubbish. You did what was best for your career, and you flourished in Madrid.”

“But you just said you wish I’d never gone.”

“Well, I do, but that’s just because I missed you. I know it was for the best.”

“I want to come back, but I don’t know how, and now you’re leaving…” Xabi trailed off. He couldn’t bring himself to beg Steven to stay when he left himself.

“If you came back, I wouldn’t leave…”

Xabi felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach, and travel up to his throat. He swallowed it down, and blinked several times. “I don’t know if I can. They wouldn’t even give me 90 minutes today…” He looked away, blinking again. Xabi didn’t cry, and if he did, he sure as hell didn’t do it front of anyone.

Steven squeezed his hand, happy for the darkness and the partial privacy provided to them by the back corner table. “We’ll figure it out,” he assured him, though he felt like he need assurance as well. “Let’s just enjoy the evening, shall we?”

“Oh, of course. I’m taking away from your night, aren’t I?” Xabi started to lean in to kiss his cheek. It was such a natural action, much like patting someone on the back when they’ve done a good job. Only when Steven recoiled, did he realize that he’d begun to do something wrong. “I’m sorry,” he said, sitting straight in his seat.

Steven shook his head. “There’s a camera pointed straight at us right now.” He nodded in the direction of a camera. It was several hundred feet from them, recording the ceremony. it might not even catch them, but as sure as they let their guards down, there would be grainy screenshots on the covers of every gossip rag in the UK.

Xabi nodded. “You’re right… It could be like 2005 all over again.”

Steven’s cheeks burned, and he grinned bashfully. “I don’t regret that.”

“I haven’t regretted it for a single day,” he agreed. “I still say that’s one hell of a way to tell a guy how you feel about him. Kiss him in front of the entire world for the first time.”

“You’re a special guy. I thought I’d have to go big, or how else would I rope you in?”

“You had me well before that. You just didn’t know it.”

“I’d like to have you forever… maybe we should kiss again.”

“In front of the entire world?”

Steven pointed to the stage. “Up there, maybe?”

Xabi laughed. Of course, Steven was joking.

***

Forty minutes later, Xabi found himself standing on the little stage presenting a plaque to Steven. Steven was beaming, but blushing - the perfect mixture of pride and humility. He took the plaque from Xabi, made his little speech, and then turned to Luis who stood next to Xabi. They shook hands, and embraced quickly. Steven then turned to Xabi who immediately extended his hand. Steven took it, but rather than shaking it, used it to pull him closer. Caught off guard, Xabi stumbled a little, and grabbed Steven’s arm to brace himself.

The entire room watched with rapt attention. Millions of fangirls across the globe waited with bated breath.

“I thought you were joking,” Xabi whispered as Steven leaned toward him.

“Guess not,” Steven replied, pressing his lips to his. Xabi squeezed his arm, and kissed him back.

There was a collective gasp from the crowd, and someone - Xabi would bet money on Pepe - clapped, while another - Steven reckoned Carra - shouted, “Come on, mate!”

“You just cause so much trouble,” Xabi muttered when he pulled away. “It’s almost like you enjoy seeing how much you can get us into.”

“Maybe I just like kissing you in front of a million people.”

“I rather prefer kissing you in front of no one. Let’s get out of here.” Xabi walked off the little stage. He could feel the camera’s glares following him, but he paid them no mind. He returned to their cozy little back corner table, and was quickly joined by Steven.

“Are you going to kiss me back here?”

“Nope.”

“It’s almost in front of no one.”

“Every single person in here is staring at us.”

Steven turned his gaze toward the other tables around them. Xabi was nearly correct. “Wow, rude.”

“We just kissed. They’re curious.”

“It wasn’t even a proper snog…” he said quietly. “If I kissed a girl, no one would be staring.”

“They might if it’s a girl they didn’t know you frequently snogged.”

“I don’t frequently snog anyone.”

“Good. Can we stop saying snog now? That’s one of my least favorite English words.”

“Fine. Beso.”

“You remembered!” Xabi smiled. He had been teaching Steven to speak Spanish since they met. He still hadn’t fully grasped the language, and his accent was atrocious, but Xabi was happy for even the smallest victories.

“How could I forget when you spent a whole afternoon in bed saying ‘beso’ every time you kissed me body?”

Xabi laughed. “Hmm… now I know how to teach you. Positive reinforcement.”

“Hmm… I think I’d like to schedule a Spanish lesson for this evening…”

***

Fernando spoke in Spanish to Xabi while Steven stood behind awkwardly awaiting his chance to bid the Spaniard adieu. When Xabi finally moved aside, Steven swooped in and pulled Fernando into a tight hug. He thanked him for coming (for about the 80th time), and expressed how very proud he was of him.

Fernando fought back the emotions that were welling up in him again. He thanked Steven, and kissed his cheek as he pulled away.

“Can we drive you anywhere?” Steven asked, returning to Xabi’s side. “Your hotel, the airport?”

“Thanks, but I’m actually riding to Manchester with John.”

Xabi and Steven smiled knowingly. Steven said, “Have fun” while Xabi got right to the point with, “Tell Juan I said hello.”

Fernando’s freckles were highlighted when his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “I’ll see you guys around,” he said, waving to them as he walked off to find John.

“Our little boy is all grown up,” Steven remarked as he watched Fernando walking across the room.

“Sure, he has, but our little boy was never really that little, was he? He’s always been bigger than both of us.”

Steven laughed. “I suppose you’re right, but he felt so young when he came to us, and we had to watch out for him.”

“I still call him once a week to check on him.”

Steven slid his hand over his shoulders. “I’m sad to say that I haven’t kept up as well. I only seem to find the time to call when there’s a pressing matter to discuss.”

“Ooh,  that’s not very fatherly.”

Xabi was joking, of course, but Steven frowned nonetheless. “I know. I should fix that.”

“I was joking,” Xabi assured. “He’s not actually our son, you know?” Steven still wore the frown, so Xabi changed the subject. “Speaking of our son though… have you noticed how much Moreno looks like the two of us? It is uncanny!”

Steven nodded. “I posted something on Instagram that you would have seen if you followed me.”

Xabi laughed. “Oh, wow. Okay, I will follow you.” Xabi pulled out his phone, and opened Instagram. “What did you post?” he asked, searching for Steven’s profile within the app.

“Some photo a fan created. It was three pictures: one of you, me, and Alberto. The site called him our ‘love child.’ If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were correct.”

“I followed you.” He showed off the screen of his phone. “Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Shut up. Where is our son anyway? I’d like to talk with him.”

“About what it means to be a good son?”

Xabi laughed. “More about being a good footballer, but sure. Does he know that he’s our son?”

“He liked the picture on Instagram.”

“Did he really?”

“He really did. Look at it.”

“I’ll look through them all later.”

“Sure. It’s mostly just pictures of Lou.”

“What’s wrong with that? She’s adorable.”

Steven laughed. “She was so angry that she had to leave earlier without seeing you.”

“To be honest, I was a little upset.”

Steven frowned a little. “Alex insisted. She insists a lot since we split up.”

“I know the feeling. Nagore used to be the most easygoing woman I have ever met. Now, she’s like a warden.”

“I’m sorry for that, Xabs. If you’ll stay the night, I can have Lou over tomorrow.”

“I’d love that.”

***

 

“Thanks for the ride, John. I really appreciate it.” Fernando opened the door to John’s car, but turned back before he climbed out. “It was really great seeing you again.”

“Hey, no problem. It was good to see you too, mate.” John patted his cheek. “Let me know if you need anything. You still have my number, right?”

“Of course.” Fernando climbed out of the car, but quickly ducked his head back down. “Tell Frank I said hi, and I miss him.”

“Will do. Tell Mata the same.”

Fernando nodded, and closed the door to John’s car. He watched John drive down the street. When he turned a corner, Fernando finally turned around to face Juan’s house. HIs heartbeat quickened. He hadn’t seen Juan in a few months, and he suddenly felt like he shouldn’t have come. He turned back around, and was hit with the reality that he couldn’t easily leave. He couldn’t call John back to pick him up, and he had no car. He could call a cab. Yes! Of course, he could call a cab, and he could go to a hotel. He could call Juan, and ask if he’d even like to see him. Then, he could come back and… such stupid ideas.

He sighed, and turned again, thinking how he must look like an incredibly slow spinning top. He took a deep breath, and took a step forward. He could feel his pulse beating hard in his neck. He balled his hands into fists and then relaxed them after a moment.

 _It’s Juan, what am I so worried about?_ he asked himself.

When he reached the door, he raised his hand to knock, but lowered it a moment later. _Get it together. it’s been a while, but Juan still loves you._

He raised his hand again, but chose to ring the bell rather than knock. A few moments passed with no answer. The house was dark. Maybe Juan was out? He started to ring the bell again when suddenly a light just inside the door flicked on, and then the light above Fernando. The porch was flooded in light.

Fernando stood there, waiting to hear the sound of locks turning, but he heard nothing. A second later a tiny little window in the door opened - the fancy version of a peephole. Fernando leaned to the side a little to see in, as the window wasn’t at his eye level. What he saw made his heart flutter, and a grin spread across his face: Juan’s beautiful twinkling blue eyes.

“Nando!!” The tiny window slammed shut, and Fernando took a step backward, startled by the sudden movement. Less than a second later, the door jerked open, and Juan came flying out. He jumped into Fernando’s arms, coiling his arms around his neck; legs around his waist.

Fernando stumbled a little, but righted himself quickly. He hugged Juan, and rubbed his back. “Hey, you.”

“Baby, I missed you!” Juan loosened his arms just enough to move his face from Fernando’s neck. He pressed a kiss to his lips.

Fernando chuckled, but kissed him back. This was not exactly the reception he had expected. “I missed you too,” he replied when Juan finally stopped kissing him.

“Come in. Come in. I just made dessert!”

“Dessert?”

“Mmhmm!”

“Baby, you don’t cook.”

“I’m learning.”

Fernando arched his brow. “Uh… who are you and where is my boyfriend?”

“Nando,” Juan whined. “I am learning. David has been teaching me.”

“David?”

“De Gea…”

“I know who he is. He’s been teaching you to cook?” Fernando placed Juan on his feet.

“Yes. Easy stuff mostly. This week is empanada week.”

“Empanada week, huh? I remember when I tried to teach you to cook… You whined and said cooking was too hard, and you never wanted to learn.”

Juan frowned, and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, David makes it easy.”

“Oh, he does?”

“Are you upset?”

Fernando shook his head, but he was a little upset. It was probably stupid, but cooking was something he loved almost as much as football. He had always wanted to share it with Juan. There was something so romantic about creating something delicious in the kitchen together. Juan had always refused him, and now he was making empanadas with De Gea?!

“You are. I can tell. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Let’s go inside.”

Juan frowned, but led Fernando into his house. It occurred to him that it was the first time that Fernando had been in his new house. “I can give you a tour,” he suggested. “Or we could have some dessert. I’d love for you to try…”

“I’m not hungry,” Fernando said. He knew how that would sound, but he really wasn’t. “I just came from the banquet thing for Steven.”

“Oh, right. How is Steven?”

“Great.” Fernando couldn’t stop a smile from gracing his lips at the mention of Steven. “Xabi says hello. John does, as well.”

“Terry?”

“Yes. He gave me a ride here.”

“Really?”

“He was coming to see Frank.”

“Oh, right. Frank and I had lunch the other day.”

“Did you make it?”

“Make what?”

“The lunch.”

“Oh, um, no. We met at this little restaurant that I love. I go there with the guys a lot. Frank had never been, so I… offered.. to take him.” Juan’s voice got smaller and smaller as he finished the sentence. He finally went silent, and stared at the floor.

Fernando quickly apologized, and hugged him. “It’s so hard not being an everyday part of your life anymore.”

“I know. It’s hard for me too. You might think it’s not, but it really is.”

Fernando was quiet for a while, and then, “Do you think about moving on?”

Fernando expected Juan to reply quickly, to be startled by the mere thought even. Instead, he took his time, and finally replied, “Sometimes.”

Fernando felt like a dagger had pierced his heart. He could barely find his voice to ask, “You do?”

“Sometimes, and it makes me cry.” He hugged him tighter. “I don’t want to, but sometimes I think that we’re never together, and I know how much you need someone to be there for you. It’s not fair for me to stop you finding someone else to be there for you. It’s not fair for me to keep you hanging onto a long distance thing.”

“I’m not hanging on to a ‘long distance thing.’ I’m hanging on to you. I love you.”

“I love you too, but wouldn’t you rather be with someone closer to you?”

“No!” Fernando pulled away, and gently pushed Juan back a little so he could look him in the eye. “Would you? Would you rather be with David? Is that what this is about?” Fernando had heard all of the rumors about Juan and David. He had seen the things that people posted on the internet about the relationship they wished they’d had. It was all the same things that people used to say about them. They used to call them ‘Juanando’ and talk about how cute they’d be in a relationship - all while they _were_ in a relationship. What if it was the same for Juan and De Gea?

Juan didn’t answer. He just frowned and walked away from him. He was headed for the kitchen. Fernando followed him. He needed answers. “Juan, answer me. Would you rather be with De Gea?”

“No,” Juan said with absolutely no conviction. Fernando felt nearly as bad as he imagined he would have if Juan had said yes.

“Truly?”

“I don’t know. I love you so much, but sometimes it’s so… _difficult_.”

“And it’s so easy for me, hmm?”

“No! I know it’s not easy for you. I know it’s probably even more difficult for you than it is for me, and that’s what makes it even harder for me. I sit here and I miss you terribly, and I struggle with this distance, and then I imagine how hard you’re struggling, and I see things, and hear things, and I know that there are times when you need me, but I’m not there for you.”

“I’m sorry to make things so hard for you.”

“Don’t be angry, Fer, please.”

“I’m losing my relationship. I think I’m allowed to be angry.”

“I never said…”

“You may as well have.”

“I don’t want to lose you. I truly don’t. I just… maybe we should wait. Maybe when you retire we could…”

“Could what? Maybe I could move here to Manchester with you. Maybe you could magically not have feelings for De Gea.”

“I…” Juan hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not even going to argue the fact that you have feelings for him?!”

“It’s not that I have ‘feelings’ for him. It’s just that… he’s kind and sweet, and he’s here. And he does have feelings for me, and I just think that if we weren’t together, I would probably develop feelings for him too.”

“Well, don’t let me stand in your way.” Fernando turned and walked out of the kitchen.

Juan rushed after him. He grabbed his arm, and held him back. “Nando, please no. Please don’t go.”

“Why should I stay? Do you want one last thing day before we end things?”

“I want you to argue with me. I want you to tell me that I’m wrong, and that we can make this work. I want you to hold me, and tell me the distance doesn’t matter. I want you to tell me to tell De Gea to shove his empanadas up his ass, because I’m yours.”

Fernando stared at Juan for a moment, speechless. Finally, he said, “Shove his empanadas up his ass?”

Juan’s stoic face cracked, and he giggled a little. “Fer, I hate cooking so much. I only agreed to have something to do that I hoped might impress you one day, but I hate it. And I just want you to come and cook for me, and feed me.”

Fernando pulled him into a tight hug. “I love you so much, Juan. I really do. And I don’t care about the distance. Yes, it’s difficult. Yes, I miss you. But I’m dealing with it, because of that feeling I get when we see each other again after a long spell. Nothing has ever made me feel as good as you did today when you jumped into my arms, and told me that you missed me.”

“I’m sorry for all of this. I just… I need you sometimes too, you know? I need you to reassure me.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t see that. i just couldn’t see that. I thought you really wanted that. I thought you really wanted to leave me.”

“I don’t. I wouldn’t ever want that, but I wanted to give you the out if you wanted it.”

“I would never want that.” He kissed the top of his head. “You don’t really have feelings for David, right?”

“I said I didn’t. I’m not even sure I ever could. I could try, I guess. I don’t know. It’s weird. I can’t even really imagine an actual time when I wouldn’t be with you, so it’s difficult to imagine a life with him.”

“He has feelings for you though?”

“Yeah, he told me he did. He tried to kiss me too. I pushed him away, and told him that we could only be friends. That’s why I had to finish the empanadas alone.”

“He was here tonight?”

“Just about twenty minutes ago. I thought it was him coming back when you rang the bell. I almost didn’t answer.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Juan kissed him softly, and said, “Me too.”

***

 

“I’m happy to see you, John.” Frank embraced him as soon as he entered the house. John had been to see him in Manchester, but the visits were few and far between. Frank missed having him in the same city, in the same house most of the time.

“I’ve missed you,” was John’s reply. “Did you watch the match today?”

“Of course, I did.”

“I wish you would have come.”

“I wasn’t invited.”

“You could have spectated.”

Frank shook his head. “I was more comfortable watching from home.”

John nodded, and pulled away. “Still, I would have liked to see you there. It would have made the day even better.”

“You looked like you had a great time without me.”

“Are you bitter, because Gerrard didn’t invite you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“I think you’re lying.” John laughed. “Have you got a drink to offer your old man?”

“Sorry, I’ve lost all my manners since moving to Manchester.” Frank headed to the kitchen and gestured for John to follow him.

John did so, checking out his bum in the process. “You’ve lost a little weight as well.”

“You saying I was fat before, mate?”

“You know I wasn’t, and don’t call me ‘mate.’ We’re not in public.”

“I’m sorry, _lover_.” Frank emphasized the word “lover” sarcastically.

“Manchester really has made you rude, hasn’t it?”

“Imagine if I had taken up with United…”

“Only in my darkest nightmares am I able to conjure such an image, Lampsy.”

Frank laughed and rummaged in his refrigerator for a beer. He removed two, and handed one to John. He twisted off the cap of his own, and took a swig. “I haven’t been eating as well as I used to when I would cook for the two of us.”

“Neither have I admittedly.”

“We should remedy that.”

“How do you suggest we do that? Shall I take the train nightly clutching a casserole?”

“Yes. Don’t forget to wear your apron and high heels.”

John playfully swatted at his arm.  “I wish we could have our nights back…”

“When I retire, you can have all of my nights.” Frank gripped the back of John’s neck, and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I feel bad for saying this, but I want all of your nights now,” John mumbled between kisses.

“I feel bad for saying that I’m not ready to give up football.”

“Don’t. I’m not ready to give it up either.” He backed off a bit, and held his hands. “You make me such a sentimental idiot, you know that?”

Frank laughed. “I can see that. You’re imagining our future together, and holding my hands like the main character in a romance novel.”

“Read many romance novels, do you?”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I’ve joined a book club since I moved away.”

“The Manchester City Romance Book club. Does Kompany choose the books that you read every month?”

“Yes. This month is _Fifty Shades of Grey_.”

John made a face. “What an awful choice. That, above all else, proves that you had yourself a better captain when you played for Chelsea.”

“That was never in question, I assure you.”

John grinned. “I know, thank you, love.”

“Did you eat? You ate, didn’t you?”

“I did. There was a big banquet.”

“Did you have dessert?”

“That, I did not. They had an odd banana dish.”

“I made cookies for the girls this weekend, but they didn’t come up. Wanna help me eat them?”

“So I can get fat again?”

“Yeah, I miss your fluff.” He pinched Frank’s bum.

Frank laughed, and grabbed his hand. He pulled it away from his bum, and laced their fingers together. John gave his hand a light squeeze, and smiled. “I’m glad you came tonight, John,” Frank said softly.

John pressed a feather light kiss to his lips, and whispered, “How could I pass up the opportunity to see you?”

Frank smiled, and pulled him close. He wrapped John’s arm around his back, and then circled his own arms around John’s neck. “I love you, John…”

John leaned in, and pressed his lips to Frank’s. The kiss lingered. Their foreheads pressed together. John mumbled, “I love you too,” against Frank’s lips, and Frank kissed him again.

“Let’s go to bed,” Frank murmured, kissing him harder.

***

Steven’s back arched off the bed, and a moan escaped from his gaping mouth. Xabi gripped his hips, and snapped his hips, driving himself deeper inside of him. Steven grabbed his aching erection, and jerked himself off a few times before came in short, but powerful spurts. He cried out, and his hand fell to the bed. He balled up fistfuls of the sheets so hard that his knuckles turned white.

Xabi managed two more thrusts before he came deep inside him. He moaned, and his head fell back. He held onto Steven’s leg to stop his whole body from falling backward. His heart hammered in his chest. Every muscle in his body burned. When he finally finished, he slowly pulled out of Steven, and collapsed onto the bed next to him.

Steven’s legs seemed to be stuck in their bent position. His hands still gripped the sheets as he came down. His heart beat too fast. His breath came in gasps – his chest heaving. He slowly began to relax, and unclench. His hands loosened their grip on the sheets, knuckles returning to their natural color. His eyes fell closed, and his legs slowly lowered to the bed.

Xabi lay next to him – silent, save for the sounds of his heavy breathing. His eyes too were closed. His body was ablaze, and a sheen of sweat caused his entire body to glisten under the light above Steven’s bed.

Several minutes passed, and both men began to think the other had drifted off to sleep. Their breathing was shallower now, and neither had moved a muscle. Then Steven spoke. “I missed that.”

Xabi’s mouth slowly curved into a smile. “I did too.”

“I missed everything about you,” Xabi elaborated.

“And I you.”

“I never want you to leave.”

“The bed?”

A chuckle rumbled up from Steven’s stomach, and shook his torso. “Me side.”

Xabi was silent for a few moments, and Steven began to fear that he’d upset him. When Xabi finally spoke again, his voice was so low that Steven could barely hear him. “Nowhere has ever felt more like home.”

Xabi felt the bed shift, but he kept his eyes closed. Moments later, Steven’s lips were pressed to his. One moment more and his tongue was slipping past them. Xabi slid his fingers onto his head, and into his short hair. Steven’s hand found its way into the hair on Xabi’s chest. The kiss was slow, and easy, but full of passion that easily surpassed their heated love making.

 

Steven woke up sometime in the middle of the night, chilled by a breeze blowing into the room. He looked over to find the doors to the balcony standing wide open. Xabi’s form was silhouetted by the moonlight. He climbed out of the bed, shivering when the chilly wind whipped across his naked body. He dragged the duvet from the bed, and wrapped it around body. He padded onto the balcony.

“You’ll catch your death, me love,” he said to a very naked Xabi.

“It feels exhilarating.”

“You’ll freeze.” It was hardly freezing, but Steven wrapped him in the duvet. “Oh, Xabs, you’re chilled to the bone.” He shivered when Xabi’s back collided with his chest.

Xabi pulled the duvet tighter around the both of them, and Steven released it, wrapping his arms around Xabi instead. “What are you doing out here, naked?”

“I woke up, couldn’t get back to sleep, needed some air.”

“Wanted to freeze me to death?”

“You wouldn’t freeze. It’s six degrees.”

“That’s cold.”

He laughed. “Why did you come out then?”

“You left the door open, Xabs. It’s now six degrees in me room.”

“Sorry. I thought I shut it all the way. I guess I didn’t and the wind blew it open.”

“It’s okay.” He kissed the back of his head. “Will you come back to bed now?” Xabi nodded, and pulled himself out of the duvet cocoon. Steven followed him, and they returned to bed.

Steven curled onto his side under the duvet, and Xabi snuggled in behind him, holding him close. The French doors leading to the balcony had been firmly closed, and locked for good measure. The shades were drawn to block out the light of the moon.

“Xabs,” Steven whispered into the darkness.

“Yes, Steven?”

“Would you stay forever if I asked you to?”

Xabi pressed his lips to the Steven’s shoulder, and then said, “I’d do anything for you, Steven.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed the fic, please leave some kudos. Comments are loved as well!! xx


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